Just
by minor-thing
Summary: They made it. Robin/Barney
1. Chapter 1

Just

They were there.

One year and seven months down the road. One year and five months past the kiss in the hallway that brought them back together in the most magnificent of ways. A kiss that was so ridden with symbolism, it carved the path for that one year and seven months ahead of them that would lead them to where they were now.

Their wedding reception.


	2. Chapter 2

Just

You do it to yourself, you do/and that's why it really hurts

The wedding was private. Ted, Marshall, Lily, their two year old Gina, the fetus growing in Lily's uterus with not yet identifiable secondary sex characteristics; Robin's parents, Barney's parents, and a few other relatives that it would have been in bad taste to forgo inviting.

The spring was cold. Robin wore a jacket until the minute she walked down the aisle. The congregation in the black wrought-iron chairs were shivering, trying to warm themselves as best they could. Clouds were heavy, low and gray in the sky, and the grass was damp from the showers earlier that afternoon.

But still.

It was awesome.

.

A year and five months prior to that misty spring day, Barney proposed. Over Chinese food they'd been eating from the carton in his bed late into the night, post sex. That was how their relationship was; they slept over at one another's apartments nightly, they spent forty-five minutes flipping through take-out menu after take-out menu, trying to devise the most satisfying, yet most economical meal plan for that evening. They tried to choose dishes that would satisfy the other's appetite, and not merely their own selfish longing for kung pao shrimp.

They were embarking on completely foreign territory of self-sacrifice, investment in another human being. Their commitment phobias and hang-ups were far from non-existent.

But still.

There they were, making love on a pile of Mr. Ling's Kitchen menus in a bed they'd been sharing every night for two months.

.

They were a regular couple. They weren't perfect, they weren't gooey, they weren't unrealistic. They ate that night in a relative silence, both absorbed in their respective reading material that had come in the mail earlier that day. Fliers, catalogues, all the regular weekly advertisements. Their comfort in the presence of one another was apparent.

It was, after all, a long road for them to arrive at that place of honest, forward love and comfort.

.

To Robin, Barney pulled the ring out of no where. One moment, she was thumbing through a 50 percent off recliners flier, the next she was met with Barney's intense, soul-bearing gaze and his saying, "We should get married."

To Barney, the ring had been on his mind for three weeks. He was constantly aware of where it was; in his suit pocket, in a velour box in his sweaty palm the night they went to an elegant French restaurant downtown two weeks ago. The night he proposed, it was in his bedside drawer, hammering on his heart the minute Robin climbed into his bed in her lavender nightie, sitting right in the middle, focusing intently on which greasy kitchen would provide their dinner that night.

She was at ease – totally and completely uninhibited. She bit at a hangnail on her finger while she recited lists of dishes to him.

The sex helped him settle his nerves.

She was still at ease after. Yes, her cheeks were a bit more flushed, her nose a little shinier with sweat, her hair less kempt, an extremely probable hickey forming on her fairly exposed left breast. That night it felt right.

He plotted how to get the ring from its red velour box in the table onto her finger. His mind raced, his eyes darted. He was riddled with nerves.

The nerves dissipated by a quick glance up from her food from Robin, a little smile, and the return of her focus to her rice noodles and Ashley Furniture catalogue.

He was so in love with her.

So he leaned into her, garlic likely both on their breath, and told her that they should get married.

.

There was this single protest:

"We've only been together for two months, Barney."

There was this single rebuttal:

"Robin, I want us to be together for the rest of our lives. This is it. I love you. Will you marry me?"

He got the ring from the drawer.

"Yes."


	3. Chapter 3

Just

Their life together was regular. It was spectacular in its own right, but it was human. They still fought, they still disagreed, they still would put up barriers. What changed was this: they were committed to unlearning things. They were unlearning their extreme defensiveness, they were unlearning their habit to avoid a problem, they were unlearning their habit of keeping all of their thoughts bottled up. They had been apart, together, apart, and then back together, and together was how they were stubbornly determined to stay.

As it had turned out, life apart was unbearable.

.

Their engagement lasted for one year, five months. In that time, Barney's lease on his apartment was up, so, together with Robin, he ditched his seduction loft and found a two-bedroom apartment a few blocks down from Ted's. The apartment wasn't filled with cool steel like his old place; there were curtains, and a heavy oak bureau for his scaled-back porn collection that he'd watch (usually) only with Robin on particularly saucy nights.

They moved in together eight months into their engagement, after a lot of possessions-selling, painting and stripping of the floors. Their lives melded into one. Their toothbrushes shared a cup, they bought two cartons of milk: skim for Barney and almond for Robin. They slept in the same bed, showered (most often together) in the tiny Mediterranean-tiled shower that was, for their own personal needs, home to both of lemon yellow razor with nutmeg-vanilla shave gel, and an elaborate three-step Kiehls skincare kit for Barney to remain "timeless".

Robin found Barney's shaving clippings in the sink; he found her brunette hair wrapped around the drain.

They lived their lives together.

.

Robin planned the wedding with a huge helping hand from Lily. Robin consulted Lily on everything – from the type of flower to the perfect garter to wear. Her lifelong hang-up on getting married still overcame her in times of insecurity or questioning. In hers and Barney's somewhat unconventionally long engagement, she had her doubts. She'd blow up and him, freak out, feel nauseas and want to bail. It was easier to freak out before they lived together in that first eight months, when the engagement was still constantly exhilarating and just a vague idea. But as the months passed and their wedding slowly came together, panic set in almost daily.

She'd second guess. So would he. The minute one freaked out, the other was able to put the situation into perspective and talk them down. If Robin lost control, Barney was in control. If Barney lost control, Robin was in control.

.

The night of their engagement, after saying yes, they – predictably – made love again. Twice more, in fact, before the _dead _of night when Robin called Lily. Robin was cool and collected in her announcing of the news; Lily squealed with uncontainable joy.

Barney opened a bottle of scotch, poured the both of them two tumblers, and noticed the time on the clock. It was 4:32 a.m. Robin's hair was wild. She had been up since six o'clock the previous morning for her 9 o'clock morning show, and must've been dog tired. In that moment when Barney handed Robin the glass of scotch, and she listened to Lily's elated rambles on the line, he'd never seen her surge with more life.

.

She hung up the phone and drained the rest of her glass.

"She's losing her shit."

Barney poured her another glass, and topped off his own.

The deeper into their relationship they got, the more often Barney's face was tender, soft, admiring. His smile was coy. "Sounds like it." He swished his scotch in circles. "She sounded like a dying cat."

Robin nudged Barney, playful. "She's just happy for us. In a creepy, high-pitched way." Barney nodded, accepting this. "Are we really doing this?" Robin's voice was dripping with disbelief, like she was expecting him to pull the rug from under her any minute.

He softened further and pulled her into him, kissing her hair. "Yeah, we are."

.

The day Robin moved out of Ted's apartment into their new place was a monumental one. She hadn't lived with a man since Don, and that had turned out to be a catastrophe. The purging she and Barney had to do to their own possessions before combining assets took weeks. The sold Barney's bed and chose to keep Robin's to sleep in; they bought gender-neutral Egyptian cotton sheets, silk pillow cases, and warm-toned throw pillows and blankets.

The spare bedroom was used as a closet for the two of them: Robin's large collection of clothes and Barney's suits.

Their possession date was a month before they moved in. In that month, the floors were stripped and revarnished. The second the carpenters left, Barney called Robin and told her to meet him a seven for supper at _home. _There were no groceries in the fridge; they ate microwaved popcorn, dry cereal and scotch for supper that night, and made welcome-home love on the bare mattress in _their _bedroom.

.

It was Robin that had originally proposed the idea of them getting a new place together. They were at McLarens waiting for Ted and his then-girlfriend to meet them for burgers. Barney had been trying to coax her to stay at his place that night, promising all sorts of sexual favours if she'd spend the night. Robin had been reluctant, claiming that she hated the fact that his bedroom had no windows; she was always a little late for work in the morning when she had no sun-alarm.

She offered they stay at her place that night, agreeing to the sexual favours with no terms.

"Ted's new girlfriend will be there, and I don't like hearing him begging for a performance review all night, if you know what I mean."

"Yeah, he is a bit of a suck in bed."

Barney raised his eyebrow. Robin corrected herself.

"Not literally. Well, actually, that's not entirely true."

They laughed and ordered another round of drinks, passing the time until Ted arrived.

"I wish we had some place to go that neither had poor ventilation nor Ted's all-night-long insecurity. I'd suggest the iHop on 10th again, but I think the manager was really serious with his threat."

"Eh, he was into it, that old perv." Robin said. "You know, there _is _a for-rent sign in that old building a couple blocks over from Ted's. Maybe we could…check in out?"

"Robin Scherbatsky, are you suggesting we cohabitate? Well I _never_!"

Robin rolled her eyes. Part of her knew he was kidding, but part of her was filling up with panic. She felt defensive. "Yeah, well, whatever, y_ou're _the one that proposed marriage. That's like, so totally a big deal, ok? Bigger than renting an apartment together."

Her face was flushing, she could feel it. The way Barney's lips were curling into a pleased smirk was driving her crazy with frustration.

"We don't have to. I mean, God, it's not like -"

"My lease is up soon."

He smiled.

Robin fidgeted, trying to backtrack.

"Let's go look at it tomorrow?"

"Whatever, fine, I guess."

Robin hid her flustered face in her glass of scotch, her veins pumping with poorly veiled excitement.

.

The apartment was a little run down, but perfect. It had huge windows, a black-and-white checked kitchen floor and a master bedroom practically of equal size to the living room. They poured money into renovations and sprucing up; paint, new tile and new floors. The retouched mouldings, changed the light fixtures and resealed the cocking around the bathtub.

It looked like the offspring of their two personalities.

_**tbc**_

_Thanks for the feedback, everyone!_


	4. Chapter 4

Just

Their first few weeks after getting their monumental getting-back-together kiss in the hallway, Barney and Robin were inseparable. The time they had spent apart in the year or so since their first break-up had given them an opportunity to work on their friendship. And they had. They had become closer, better friends, confidants, with a lingering _something _for their romantic relationship.

They sat side by side in the booth at McLarens. Over the course of the night, one of them would always snake hand over to the other's lap or hand and hold on. Dinner dates were bountiful in the first few weeks, before the settled into a more fiscally-comfortable habit of staying _in_, instead of always going out.

Marshall and Lily cooed with excitement every time Barney and Robin would leave someplace together, or anytime Barney would finish his glass of scotch and say "We better go, Robin, reservations at 8".

Since the birth of Gina, trips to McLarens as a fivesome were few and far between. Often, Ted, Robin and Barney would hang out at Marshall and Lily's, lounging around in the living room, hushing to a whisper the minute the baby girl fell asleep.

.

Dating was hard. There were blips and hiccups and freak-outs. But they were out in the open this time, discussed, to prevent the self-destructing habits of the two of them to be the demise of something they both cherished and wanted so badly.

Barney and Robin wanted to be together. Their time apart taught them that. Barney's relationship with Nora solidified the fact with Robin. Barney's relationship with Nora had left a Robin-sized hole in his heart that he was reluctant to acknowledge.

.

Barney dating Nora. They got back together the evening that he and Robin had gone to prevent Zoey and Ted's reunion. Nora called him and Barney, elated, made plans to see her for dinner that night. Robin had heard through Lily that they had gone to a tiny café uptown, that he had bought her yellow roses, and had begun dating. Officially. To the point where Barney introduced Nora, happily, as his girlfriend.

Robin expected jealousy. Nora was beautiful, smart; an obvious reason for Barney to settle down. Robin had every reason to be envious of the effect Nora had on Barney.

And she was, but it was different. Robin wasn't merely jealous. She wasn't _just_ feeling in competition with Barney and Nora's relationship.

Robin was sad. She was heartbroken. A lump formed in her throat at every group dinner at McLarens when Barney would gaze at Nora with affection. Her hands felt cold, her head felt empty. She was distracted. She wanted so badly to use excuse after excuse to prevent herself from seeing Barney and Nora together, but something inside of her – something self-destructive – wanted her to go to McLarens every night and try vie for Barney's attention.

It was natural for her to want his gaze back on her. Wasn't it?

.

Barney and Nora dated a couple of months. By the end of their relationship, Robin was drained. She had taken to listening to a lot of Joni Mitchell, and had stopped going to McLarens for drinks every night. On the occasion she would attend, she felt hollow. A man had never before made her feel so alone and empty. Not even the company of Barney as a friend did anything to ease her sadness.

.

Nora had initiated a coffee date with Lily and Robin, somewhere small with tiny cups and strong espresso, where they could chat and where she could get to know Lily better. Hesitantly, Robin accepted. She wanted to hate Nora and to try to push her away, but logic and Lily told her that not only was that kind of behaviour childish and petty, but bad relationship karma – something Robin couldn't afford.

So they went. Nora was waiting for them in the café, looking like a fairy dream in her flowery white sundress and big curls. Robin, feeling perpetually frumpy from her self-indulgent eating habits that she'd adopted since Nora and Barney got together, tried to convey powerful independence in her boring black t-shirt and faded jeans.

Lily had lectured Robin beforehand to be pleasant. Not wanting to convey just how crumbled her heart was, Robin scoffed and said she totally would.

She wasn't.

Robin wanted to be, but she couldn't. She felt awkward and insecure, belittled by the sweetest woman on earth. Possibly out of respect for Robin, Nora practically refrained from mentioning Barney's name once. All she said, when pressed by Lily, was that "things were wonderful; Barney's really sweet."

That was it, that was all. Robin wanted to hear more, if only out of self-sabotage. She wanted the juice on the relationship, even if it was good news that would break her heart. The rest of the coffee date was spent chatting about Lily's pregnancy and impending motherhood.

.

The ladies finished their beverages. Robin willed herself to only eat one croissant with peach jam, feverishly trying to break her cycle of bad food. They said their goodbyes, and Lily and Robin caught a cab back to Ted's apartment.

When asked by Marshall, Ted and Barney how the afternoon went with Nora, Lily politely said "things were wonderful" and excused herself to the washroom.

_Things were wonderful _between Nora and Barney, _things were wonderful _with Nora at coffee.

More self-pity. Robin slumped onto the couch and absently flipped through an architecture magazine.

.

A few nights after the afternoon coffee with Nora, Lily showed up, rotund in her pregnant state, with a bag from Zara and plastic Duane Reade shopping bag full of designer shoes that no longer fit her swollen feet. "Listen up, bitch." Is how she greeted Robin. "You need to get out of this pathetic mopey mode and go out. I know you're not over Barney, I know that his relationship with Nora is killing you – you don't hide it well. But you need to move on, ok? Or at least make an effort to make yourself feel better."

So she did. Lily produced an extremely sexy teal and red Spanish-print dress from the bag and demanded that Robin suit up, with Spanx if needed. "Listen, I know it's no BCBG, but we've got a baby on the way and Zara is more economical. So deal with it, lock and load up that new J-Lo booty of yours, take a few swigs from this –" she handed Robin a flask, "and let's get going. I've had about three gallons of water to psych myself up to go out in my blue whale-state, so don't fuck this up for us by spending another second crying about Barney Stinson."

.

Little did Robin know, that the month it took her to drop the six pounds she gained, to go out on a few dates, to push her unhappiness to the back of her mind, and to charmingly engage Nora and Barney in friendly conversation was the month that the already-unravelled relationship between Barney and Nora completely came undone.

.

Barney and Nora appeared to be perfect for one another, and appeared to be progressing romantically at an ideal pace. Later in life, when Robin and Barney had gotten back together, Barney would reveal that his seemingly idyllic relationship with Nora was – as is usually the case – not as perfect as they portrayed.

Ted was the only one who, at the time, had a clue that Barney was the slightest bit discontented with Nora. Ted was the only one who, in the hospital for the birth of Gina, saw Barney gazing at Robin holding Gina, a look of absolute unmasked love on face.

.

Gina's birth. She came three weeks early, much to everyone's surprise. At the time of the frantic call from Marshall for everyone to come to the hospital, Ted, Robin and Barney were all out with their respective romantic partners. Ted was at his then-girlfriend's house, Barney was Nora's, arguing over the same thing that they had been for the past month, and Robin was just delving into a bottle of wine with fiction-writer James at a cozy, dimly-lit lounge.

Presumably, everyone dropped what they were doing and rushed to the hospital.

Barney and Robin caught the elevator at the same time. Robin, in tight black jeans and a deep-v silk t-shirt, surveyed Barney's dishevelled tie and fatigued face. When asking her where she'd been taken from that night to come to the hospital, Barney choked back a disappointed "Ahh" when she told him that she'd been on a date.

.

Seven hours into labour, in the dead of the night, Gina was born. The smallest Erikson born on record, she came out wailing, with Lily's red hair. Robin was asleep in the waiting room with Marshall's mom on the line on Robin's cell phone, waiting to hear the news live as she drove to New York from St. Cloud.

Ted and Barney had gone on a walk to get coffee, and to discuss yet again the subject of Barney's fight with Nora: Robin. Specifically, the morning a month ago that Nora had woken early and found Barney in his living room, drinking an espresso, watching Robin's morning talk show at an absurdly low volume.

Nora jumped to all sorts of conclusions; Barney fended them off defensively. Well, defensively at first, but as time passed and more and more instances led Nora to call Barney out on possible lingering feelings for Robin, Barney's defences weakened. It exhausted him to be in such a jealous relationship. More so, though, Nora's accusations proved to carry a lot of truth. Until she caught him doing it, Barney hadn't realized exactly _what _he'd be doing.

He hadn't let go of her. Barney had a viscous habit of glancing at the back of Robin's head when she left the room. He'd pick up the book on the side table of her apartment to see what she was reading; he'd absently clear her glass for her when everyone left the bar for the night; he'd call Lily, instead of Marshall, to see what was up in attempt to get a whereabouts on Robin for the evening.

At first, Barney had no idea that he was keeping such close tabs on her. He would never stare openly at her across the table; it was only when she was totally enraptured in a story or texting or anything that took up all of her attention that Barney felt comfortable to look at her totally head-on. This looking out for her surprisingly came very natural to Barney – and as an extremely unwelcomed discovery to Nora.

The morning that she'd found him watching Robin's show was fifth time that week. The first night he came across it accidentally. It was a totally believable situation: he couldn't fall asleep, he woke up to get a glass of water and try to kill time, and flipped on the TV.

Seeing her on TV like that was the first time since he'd gotten back with Nora that Barney really, _really _got a chance to see her. Charismatic, totally radiant, he thought. Delivering a story on a law suit against a Moon Bounce company, Robin captivated Barney once more in that heart-seizing, blow-your-hair-back way she had years ago.

So, he woke up at four for the next five mornings to watch her. He snuck out of his bed, leaving Nora sound asleep, to watch his ex-girlfriend deliver completely irrelevant local news.

.

Following Gina's birth, everyone would gather at Marshall and Lily's, partially to hold and coo over the baby, partially to keep them from killing each other from the stress of learning how to parent a child.

One particular evening, a week or so after Gina, once everyone had kind of settled into the routine of foregoing McLarens for a while, Ted asked Barney to go for a drink. So they did. At the bar, after two rounds of beer, Ted abruptly asked Barney this: "Barney, do you still have feelings for Robin?"

To which Barney replied, a huge lump in his throat, "It's possible."

_tbc_


	5. Chapter 5

Just

_You do it to yourself, you do, and that's why it really hurts_

It was Barney's turn to feel miserable. Speaking the words aloud to Ted had created a weight in his stomach that wouldn't leave. The next day, seeing Nora, Barney felt sick. Guilty. Typically, women did not possess to ability to make him feel guilty, but this combination of Nora and Robin was lethal enough to make him want to vomit.

He churned over the decision to stay in his relationship for exactly one week after his conversation with Ted.

Feelings for Robin.

What the fuck. When had those snuck up on him?

They hadn't. They were always there, such a part of him, so connected, that to _not _let Nora go would be a crime. So, he caught a taxi to her house on a Saturday afternoon and broke the new as gently as he could. Ted had advised him to break up with her gently, as smooth departures from women were not Barney's strong suit.

.

The Friday before Barney called it quits with Nora, Barney was at McLarens with Marshall, Robin and Ted. They were just sitting around, having a few rounds, mostly catching up, when at eleven-thirty, Robin excused herself.

"Hanging out with James." She told them, grabbing her jacket and downing the last of her scotch.

"In other words – booty call."

Marshall's statement was matter of fact and extremely true. Robin, flustered, said "nuh uh" and left. Marshall continued on to further rip out Barney's heart: "She's totally getting serious with that James. They came over to the house yesterday to watch Gina in the afternoon so Lily could get her hair cut."

Babysitting? Babysitting?

This kind of jealousy was something Barney had never experienced. For the most part, he was fairly emotionally detached from women. Except for his college girlfriend and a few other select instances, Barney had been relatively jealousy-free. But this aching took hold of him, stuck with him, building up inside of him until he took it all out on her – and James – the night before they got back together.

.

Barney would confide all of his insecurities and jealousies to Robin. He did so, angrily and with frustration, to relieve the knot of anxiety that was overcoming him. He wanted Robin back. His mind switched back so comfortably into wanting Robin that he wasn't sure it had ever changed.

.

By the time Gina was one month old, Barney's initial burning pain had simmered to a slow, albeit deep longing for Robin. He'd never wanted someone so bad in his entire life. He was sure it wasn't just a conquest; he was sure it wasn't just wanting her because James had her.

As crazy as it was, _he_ wanted to be the one she babysit Gina with. He wanted regular things with her, commitment type things. He wanted to lie around with her in his Armani sweatpants and enjoy one another's awesomeness. Previously, he hadn't necessarily wanted that with her. He loved her then – Barney never doubted that – but as time passed on without her, his love for Robin had grown into a real, human, unquestionable love for the woman.

He needed her back.

.

"Isn't she awesome?"

Gina's one month birthday. Everyone was at Marshall and Lily's for store-bought cake, ice cream and drinks. Barney took this opportunity to drink more than everyone else, covertly, never having an empty glass of scotch in his hand. Marshall was carrying tiny, bundled Gina around, lifting her in everyone faces, asking for approval.

Robin brought James: tall, red-headed, Irish accent. He told the group about a series of children's short stories that he was working on at the moment.

"Ooh, maybe Gina will read them when she gets older. Baby girl's going to be a serious brain." Lily explained. "I can feel it. See the size of that head? It was no picnic coming out of my treasure box, but hello, that girl is going to love to read."

"Totally, baby." Marshall showed his agreement by kissing the side of Lily's head.

.

The evening carried on. Later on, into their relationship, Barney would pinpoint this evening as the first minute he knew clearly that Robin still had a lingering something for him. It was the minute that he went from anxious to hopeful.

They were doing cake dishes in the kitchen. Scraping mottled icing into the sink, rinsing, and loading the dishwasher. Barney, four glasses of scotch deep, brought up James. Not in a sly way either. "What's the deal with James?"

Shit.

Robin did not act pleased. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

James had left just a couple of minutes before Barney and Robin began dishes, off to an actual birthday for a college friend of his. At the door saying goodbye, they whispered into one another's ears and kissed goodbye.

Barney had stared at them. He caught Robin's eye as she pulled away from the kiss goodbye. Scotch in hand, he didn't break eye contact. She did, hesitantly, and turned around to close the door behind James. Excusing herself to start on dishes, Barney followed her into the kitchen.

.

"_What the hell is that supposed to mean?"_

"I just mean…" Barney searched for words, dropping the plate into the plate prongs of the dishwasher. He was trying to buy time. This conversation struck a bad chord with Robin right away, and Barney wanted to tread lightly. "I mean, what's the story between you two? Are you together, officially?"

Robin spoke sharply. "I don't know. We haven't really had that conversation yet, ok?"

"So you're casual?"

"I don't know…"

"Are you sleeping together?"

"Barney, Christ, what the hell,"

He stopped, panicking, wondering if he overstepped. But it kept pouring out of him: "What's the deal!"

"Stop asking me about the _deal_! The deal doesn't concern you! So butt out."

"No!"

Silence. Barney straightened his shoulders, steadying. Had he ever been in a situation like this before, with a woman? Not in this lifetime. He didn't want to butt out, he didn't want to fuck off, he didn't want to let it go. He wanted… he didn't know. What did Barney want out of this conversation?

He wanted Robin back, but he had no idea how to get there. He was a jumbled, angry mess, and he'd upset Robin to the point that backtracking might be impossible.

.

Robin fled the kitchen in a fury, grabbing her jacket off the chair and hastily putting in one. Barney followed her out of the kitchen. Tipsy from the scotch and the adrenaline, he was desperate to get her to stay, to end the conversation on a better note.

"Well don't _leave_!" Barney was stern, not begging. "You can just run away in the middle of a conversation!"

What?

Barney Stinson said that? Progess.

"You're telling me that I can't leave? Jesus, Barney, you don't get to tell me how to live my life! I don't want to confide in you about James, it's none of your concern!"

"I don't want to be your confidant on this!"

Silence again. Lily held Gina close to her body, trying to shield her from the yelling. Marshall, Lily and Ted did nothing to interject. It had to play out.

Robin's voice was more calm down. Almost tender. "Then what do you want?"

_What did he want_? Her. She knew it. Barney knew it. Ted knew it. Marshall and Lily probably clued in.

Barney stood, helpless, speechless, in grey dress pants and a tucked in lemon shirt, completely unable to lie. "I want you."

This declaration of feeling did not get the reaction that Barney wanted. Instead of a confession of love back, Barney received this from Robin: "Why do you always do this?"

"Huh?"

"You go back and forth. All the time. You never stay interested in something or _someone _long enough. You're selfish and flighty. Decide what you want and stick to it. Quit abandoning people."

Too hurt to retort and tell her that she had almost identical flaws, Barney stood there, stunned. Quit abandoning people? Quit abandoning Robin.

The last time the two of them had this back and forth exchange of frustrations and confusion over feelings was in the hospital, and it ended with a kiss that led to a horribly undefined relationship. Barney wanted this to go differently. He didn't want to get defensive and hurt Robin back.

But he didn't know what to say now.

She stood at the door, a strange look of longing on her face, like she wanted him to say something to put her in her place so she didn't feel so guilty about saying what she said. He didn't. A moment passed between the two of them, a vibe shared, breaking Barney down to his soul to say: "I'm still crazy about you, Robin."

Tears welled in her eyes. She left, slamming the door.

Barney's words seemed to echo against the closed door. He dropped his hands into his pockets and sighed. Nobody said anything.

An entire minute probably passed, with Barney staring at the door, Ted and Marshall solemn with their hands in their pockets, and Lily swaying Gina.

"So, is that it?"

Lily broke the silence first.

"Yeah, I guess so." Barney replied.

"You can't be serious. You're seriously going to let her walk away? And then what? Never talk to her again?"

"No, but what am I supposed to do?"

"Pff." Lily rolled her eyes. "You love her, yes?"

"Yes."  
>"Well, goddamnit Barney, go prove it. You two seriously need to stop circling around each other and take a leap. Go get her."<p>

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

Okay. Barney took a deep breath, and with a skipping start to this jaunt out the door, he felt his body go numb with adrenaline. He wasn't halfway down the hall when he ran into Robin. She had a jog going too, and wet streaks under her eyes. She opened her mouth to say "I got into a cab but I just couldn't do it and - "

Barney cut her off with a kiss. A big, long, deep, passionate kiss. Pulling her to him, holding her with two hands on either side of her face. Two totally fucked up people, both madly in love with the other, finally finding themselves in the right place, at the right time.

_Tbc_


	6. Chapter 6

Just

Their wedding

Wet, chilly, rainy. The florist only delivered half the amount of orchids and twice the yellow roses, so the flowers were all off. The insole for Robin's left lemon yellow kitten heel got lost somewhere, so her left foot pinched and ached all day. They were short two Scotch party favours for the tables.

But it didn't matter.

They made it to that day, together, hurdling all the obstacles that a relationship throws at you. Pronounced man and wife, neither felt the ghost of their former desire for independence sweep over them; they linked arms and receded down the aisle .. together.


End file.
